


Visions Are Seldom All They Seem

by Gorignak



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Get it?, M/M, Sleeping Beauty - Freeform, cause they were zombies and they like came out of a sleep, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 06:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5118881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gorignak/pseuds/Gorignak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon is faced with a quest: slay the dragon to protect the kingdom...but why does something feel off?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visions Are Seldom All They Seem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celiye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celiye/gifts).



> for the In the Flesh Halloween Exchange 2015

The solid oak door had stood closed for years, the curtains drawn, the air still. The hinges, covered in rust and coated in a thick layer of dust, opened far quieter than Simon expected. He guessed that after the years of training, the perilous journey to this deceitfully idyllic landscape, and the maze of thorns barring the way to this very room, that maybe it was fitting that this last barrier turned out to be so easy.

He walked into the small chamber, boots shuffling through the dust, leaving a trail of dirt and blood behind him. His sword clattered to the ground and Simon braced himself against the cold stone wall. It had been a long journey, a hard journey. Nothing that he hadn’t been expecting or that he hadn’t been trained for, but still. Hard.

He took a moment to gather himself. He looked around the room, squinting to adjust to the darkness, but not as much as he would have thought he needed to. Canvases littered the room, a few along the walls, but the majority spread across the floor in various states of completion. He crossed to examine one more closely. It was beautiful. They were all beautiful, images of people and places unfamiliar to Simon, but emanating a certain nostalgia. Simon imagined whoever drew these longed for these people he had never seen, missed these places he had never known. Simon felt like there was a gentle teasing nature to them as well, like they came from the hand of an old friend, one who knew all of your secrets and still loved you.

Closer to the other side of the room, where the ornate bed stood, there were far more. It looked like they had been ripped from the walls around the bed, torn apart, scattered from various nooks and crannies around the room. Simon didn’t like that.

But he was getting distracted. He wasn’t here to look at art. The Prophet hadn’t trained him all those years to simply observe this place. He had a mission. This was what he was meant to do: raise the first of the sleeping, to kill the first of the sleeping, of those who seemed undead, in order to fulfill the prophecy. 

It was to be an honor. Simon was a knight now. He had been chosen by the Prophet, taken from his home as a shepherd with his father and groomed for this moment. He knew that it had to be done, even if it had taken a while for him to accept that he didn’t need to know why. But then Simon had always been stubborn. 

But that hadn’t been the hardest part of training. It had been the killing. Simon had been too cowardly, too soft. The Prophet had had to guide him for a long time, had had to motivate him more and more in order for him to be able to complete that part of the training. It had been hard, but Simon knew that he could do this now. He could kill this first to rise.

He thought.

Simon walked over to the bed, to where a delicate-looking pale-haired boy lay. He didn’t know why, but Simon had always imagined this scene would be more peaceful. He had imagined the boy laid out straight, stony faced and imposing. It would have made it easier if he looked like the threat that he was. He would walk up to him and slay the beast for what it was and emerge a hero. He would finally be the son his father hoped for.

But how could he slay this boy? This frail boy, his own age, hunched in on himself with such a look of anguish on his face? With dried paint on hands and his shoes still on his feet?

He could do this. He had to do this. The Prophet would be very angry if Simon failed.

But first he had to wake him up. That Simon knew he could do. The boy looked to be in so much pain. It would be a small mercy to break this spell on him. Maybe that could be what Simon held on to. Ending this boy’s life would not only save everyone in the kingdom, but it might also end this limbo of suffering he seemed to be trapped in. This would be the best course of action for everyone.

Then why didn’t it feel that way?

The boy stirred and Simon’s attention refocused. He weaved through the canvases to arrive at the bedside, kneeling down beside him. With the boy’s face this close the pain was all the more visible and Simon forced himself to take his face in his hands as gently as he could manage. 

He leaned down over the boy and found himself softly carding his hand through his blonde hair. He wasn’t at all what he had been expecting. He was beautiful. He was sad. He was alone.

Simon pressed his lips softly to the boy’s. He pulled back slowly, watching. 

Kieren sat upright in a jolt. He looked around the room, dazed, until his eyes rested on Simon.

“Simon?” Kieren asked, backing away from him a bit. “Did I wake you up?”

Simon just stared. The boy’s face was still sad, but a different kind of sad now. More guarded. Simon didn’t like that.

Kieren looked around the room again, seeming to take in the layers of dust and Simon’s disheveled appearance. His eyes flickered to the sword, still abandoned by the doorway.

“Oh no…” Kieren trailed off. “What…what happened? Where’s Amy? Jem? I…Simon?”

Everything seemed to crash down around Simon. Kieren. This was Kieren. Of course this was Kieren, they had done this before. They had met before, they had talked before, they had kissed before. How could he kill Kieren? Why, why would he want to kill Kieren? Why was he talking to the Prophet again? How could he…

“Kieren,” Simon croaked.

Kieren exhaled and threw his arms around Simon.

“I thought I was going to lose you too,” Kieren whispered. “The Prophet’s magic is so strong I didn’t know if this was going to work…I’m so glad that it did.”

“Kieren I’m so sorry,” Simon choked.

Kieren shook his head, “This isn’t your fault. I chose this. I chose you. And I still choose you. You took a while sure but you saved me.”

“I also made you put yourself to sleep again because I let the Prophet get into my head again. The only reason you’ve been stuck here is to save me, to wake me up and bring me back to my senses.”

Kieren took Simon’s hand in his.

“Then we saved each other.”

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this was so lame hahaha


End file.
